


The Kentucky Derby

by Titti



Category: Ocean's Twelve (2004)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-01
Updated: 2005-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-15 20:31:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titti/pseuds/Titti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not everything goes smoothly at the Kentucky Derby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kentucky Derby

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Written for Take the House, the Ocean's Eleven ficathon.   
> Notes 2: I know nothing about the Kentucky Derby. The only horses I've been near to are the ones in the engine of my car. So the layout of the racetrack is completely made up.

Miami, Florida  
April 4, 1993

Danny got out of the cab, and closed his white linen jacket as he stood in front of the nightclub. The bouncer looked him up and down. Danny smiled back.

It was enough for the door to open, and Danny moved at the edges of the dance floor. He passed through a narrow hallway, before finding himself in front of another bouncer.

The big man growled - there was no other way to describe the sound - but then frowned, like it was too hard to think, and then grinned. The light blinked off his gold tooth. "Mr. Ocean, long time, no see."

"It's been a while, Sam." Danny stood there, hands in his pocket, waiting for the bouncer to get a clue.

"Oh sorry." Sam opened the door, and stepped aside, but then leaned toward Danny. "Mr. Ryan is here."

Danny tried to ignore the stink of sweat coming off from the room and the butterflies in his stomach, and kept his smile on his face. "Thanks, Sam," he said as he was moving inside the other room. The moment that the door was closed behind him, the silence rang louder than the music. The room was dark except for the lights over the tables, and the softer lights near the bar.

He adjusted the cuffs of his shirt. It was enough time to scan the room, and find the person he was looking for. He walked to the bar and sat on the stool, looking at the mirror in front of him. "I'm a little late." Right, keep it cool, don't acknowledge guilt, and people will believe you did nothing wrong.

Too bad you can't con a conman. Rusty only raised an eyebrow, Danny went on, "All right, so I'm three months late, and you've got every right to be upset."

The eyebrow stayed up.

"I meant to come back, but then I met this guy-" The eyebrow reached Rusty's hairline. "Not like that. George DeFonzo, remember him? Well, I met him at a casino, and we got talking, and he had this job."

Rusty spun the stool around until he was facing Danny. "We had sex. You said 'I'm going out for cigarettes'. Between the hotel room and the cigarettes, you found yourself inside a casino and planned a job, and you don't think I should be pissed?"

"You should be pissed," Danny deadpanned.

"I *am* pissed. You should have called me for the job." Rusty turned around, and went back to his glass of gin.

Danny smiled. That's what he loved about Rusty. No bullshit, no sentimentality, just straight to business. "I'm calling you for the job."

"Three months and you didn't do the job?" Rusty took another swig from his glass, but Danny could already see the difference: the alertness, the anticipation. He understood it as well. The adrenaline was almost as good as sex, sometimes even better.

"We couldn't. It's for May 1st."

Rusty nodded. "So where's Defonzo?"

"Jail in Nevada. He got caught trying to pass off fake coins in a casino," Danny said amused.

Rusty snorted. "Amateur. So now that you need help, you come here."

Danny leaned closer, his hand resting on Rusty's back, his lips brushed Rusty's ear. "I never considered doing this without you." He nodded toward the door. "Let's go to my room, and I'll tell you the details."

A brief nod was the only acknowledgement before they got up in unison, and walked out of the club.

~*~*~*~

Danny opened the door of his hotel room and went straight to the desk where two liquor bottles sat half-drunk. He opened the cognac, and poured it in the two cheap glasses that the hotel provided. Danny grimaces as he studies the glasses. Good liquor should be drunk in expensive crystal.

Rusty barely looked at the bottles before asking, "Been here long?"

"I got here this morning." Danny had gone from the airport to a liquor store to the hotel, and spent the day convincing himself that Rusty wouldn't deck him on sight. Not that Rusty had ever done it in the past, but Danny knew that it was easier to appear in control once all the demons had been conquered.

"I'd have picked you up at the airport." Rusty took his jacket off, and put it on the chair. It was casual, too casual, as Rusty moved closer until they were standing next to each other. Rusty took his glass from Danny's hand, their fingers brushed, and they both looked up and stared at each other.

Danny smiled, and his eyes brightened. "I should have called you."

"You should have."

"But I didn't."

"You didn't." Rusty put the glass down untouched. He rested a hand on the back of Denny's neck, but didn't move forward. "Enough chit chat?"

"More than enough." Danny's smile grew brighter before he leaned closer slowly, still watching until they were too near, and his eyes fluttered closed before pressing his lips against Rusty's.

Danny could taste gin and cigarettes mixed with salt from the peanuts Rusty liked so much. Rusty's hands moved over his body with familiarity, pushing his jacket off his shoulder, and onto the floor, before tugging on the shirt. Familiar, and yet there was something different, something he couldn't pin down. "Are you all right?" he asked when Rusty finally let him breath again.

"Bad week." It was the only thing Rusty was willing to say before he pushed Danny against the desk. His fingers curled around Danny's short hair, and pulled his lover closer. The kiss was brutal as Rusty pressed his body against Danny's.

Danny spun him around, pinning him against the desk. "What happened?"

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Rusty sighed. "Paul, friend of mine got killed during a job. Cops. I was supposed to be there, but changed my mind. I had a bad feeling about it, told Paul to wait, but he went ahead with someone else. If I had been there...." He looked up at his lover. "Can we fuck now?"

If he had been there, he might have been dead too, but Danny knew that wasn't how Rusty thought. Rusty took care of everyone; that was why he was so good when they pulled a con. Rusty was the go-to man to if you needed something, and while his presence was priceless, cops didn't care much about how good he was.

Danny cupped the nape of Rusty's neck, pulling him in for a searing kiss. "How quickly can you get rid of your clothes?" He was rewarded with a grin and with a flurry of movement that left him staring as Rusty lost each piece of clothing he had on.

Rusty let himself fall on the bed, lying there, hands under his head. "You're still dressed."

"So I am." Danny swallowed hard. His mouth had gone dry at the sight in front of him. Rusty was made of hard muscles and tanned skin, and Danny didn't know why he'd stayed away for so long.

"And you should get naked, but you won't because..."

Danny went back, and bent down to pick up his jacket. That's when he froze, and after a heart beat he smiled.

"I'll pick up my jacket first."

"You'll pick up your jacket first," Rusty repeated. "'S okay. It'd have driven you insane if you hadn't."

Danny chuckled, but didn't answer, because they both knew that it was true. Instead, he put his jacket on the chair before taking care of the rest of his clothes, all somewhat neatly arranged on the chair. "Better?"

"Incredibly. Now get here."

"Since you ask so nicely." Danny sat at the end of the bed, before moving over Rusty's body, covering it with his. He hesitated a moment as he traced Rusty's lips with his fingers.

"If you tell me you missed me or some other bullshit line, I'm going to knee you in the balls."

He had missed this; he had missed Rusty, but it was his fault, or maybe just the way they were made because the next time it would be Rusty running off god knows where. Danny shook his head, his eyes wrinkling as he smiled. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Good. Now, shut up and fuck me."

Danny decided that it was easier to do what Rusty said.

~*~*~*~

Stamford, Connecticut  
April 6, 1993

"Are you sure he lives here?" Danny squinted against the sun as he focused on the unremarkable white house. "It looks..."

"Very suburban?" Rusty parked the car, and shut off the engine. "That's because it is. He plays golf every other day, card game on Fridays, race track on Sunday."

"Does he get drunk nightly?" Danny asked, still frowning at the house.

Rusty grinned. "Either that or he wants to kill himself by now. The boredom must be driving him insane."

Danny shook his head. "Why is he here again?"

"Wife wanted him out of the business, live somewhere nice and quiet," Rusty said as he got out of the car. He buttoned his jacket before joining Danny's side as they walked to the front door.

"I could never do that for a woman, bury yourself in the middle of no where."

"Good thing you aren't married then. Besides, Roger has been resting for almost six months. It should be enough to make him want to do something. Only someone nuts-"

"Hey, this isn't crazy. It's a perfectly good plan." Danny stared at Rusty.

"You're right; it's not crazy. It's insane."

Danny started to reply that Rusty wouldn't have done it if he didn't think the plan could succeed, but thought better of it. After what happened to Paul, Rusty might be very well going along only to make sure that he was all right. "We don't have to do it; you know that, right?"

Rusty turned to Danny, and grinned. "Nah, a little insanity is good." Then he turned to the opening door, and gave the woman his best smile. "We're here to see Roger."

~*~*~*~

Roger Pillings, born Jasper Pillings, in a small town thirty kilometers from London, bore a remarkable likeness to one Roger Moore. At first, he had been annoyed by the vicarious fame, but with time he had learned to use it to his advantage, going so far as to adopt the actor's name, because no one would ever suspect the famous Roger Moore to be part of a scam.

At the moment Roger was sitting around a patio table as the sun warmed the sunroom through the tinted glass. He had a glass of orange juice in his hand, but from the smell Danny had no doubt that vodka was the main ingredient. "Isn't it early for that?"

Roger snorted. "You try staying sober around here."

"We might have a solution to your problem," Rusty said, grinning.

"Why do I get the feeling that my wife will kill me?" But even as he sighed, Roger smiled.

"Because you're leaving with us to do a job," Danny replied smoothly.

"Will you tell me what the job is? Or should I guess?" he asked, his cockney accent blending into a cultivated accent.

"It's going to make us rich, and you won't have to do anything more than pretend to be Roger, mingle with some rich people, and distract them if something goes wrong."

"Which it won't," finished Rusty. "C'mon, Roger. You know us. We always do good work, but we don't share the details unless we know you're in."

Roger's gaze shifted between the two men, and then he rolled his eyes. "I must be barking mad to even consider this...my wife will kill me...." He stood up. "Oh, all right, give me fifteen minutes."

Danny and Rusty looked at each other and grinned.

~*~*~*~

Belleville, New Jersey  
April 7, 1993

Danny frowned as he looked at the house. "What's going on, everyone is moving to the burbs? Even Joey?"

"Joey died two months ago. Heart attack while he played golf." Rusty buttoned his jacket, as he leaned toward Danny. "Remind me of that if I ever want to retire."

Danny looked at his lover and smiled. "That implies that we'll be working together for a long time."

"Unless you get the urge for cigarettes again," Rusty answered without missing a beat.

"There is that." An instant later. "Maybe I should quit."

Rusty snorted. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

Danny studied Rusty for a moment. "Are we still talking about cigarettes?"

Rusty gave him a half smile as he shrugged. "That's what I thought, unless you mean something else."

"No, of course not." Danny's lips tugged at a corner. Only with Rusty he could have important discussions without talking, and still know that they understood each other perfectly. "There's one thing, though."

"Yes?"

"Why are we here if Joey is dead?"

Rusty gave him a feral grin. "Carmela Buscemi, Connie for her friends. She's even better than her father with a safe, and let me tell you, she looks a lot better than Joey ever did."

"Oh well, in that case, she has to be in on this." Danny shook his head, but he trusted Rusty, and if he said this woman was good, then she was good. "All right, let's meet Carmela."

~*~*~*~

Carmela Buscemi sat on a bad replica of a Louis XIV couch. Her black hair reached past her shoulder, long and straight, while her bangs puffed over her forehead. She was probably solely responsible for depleting the ozone layer with the amount of hairspray she used.

She wore spandex, black pants, coupled with black high heels. Her silk shirt hung from large shoulder pads down past her hips. She chewed on her bubble gum, strawberry from the smell. "So, Rusty, long time no see? I thought you'd forgot about me," she said in a thick accent that revealed her Bensonhurst upbringing.

"I could never forget you, Connie. I've been a little busy."

"Yeah, I bet she was keeping ya busy, wasn't she?"

Rusty laughed. "I wish. It was the work kind of busy. That's why we're here."

Connie narrowed her eyes as she looked at Danny, but she continued to speak to Rusty. "I wouldn't know about that. Ma and me, we survive with what Pa left us."

Rusty rolled his eyes. Paranoia was a trait that Joey had brought over from Sicily, and Connie had inherited it. God knew what she was thinking, but they didn't have time to waste or he would have had some fun with it, instead he said, "Oh, how bad of me. I haven't made the introduction. Connie, meet Danny Ocean."

Connie smiled, popping her gum. "Danny Ocean, no shit?"

"No shit," Danny replied, amused by the sudden change.

"Pa used to talk about you, said you were smart and shit, had all of these ideas, but couldn't be bothered with the fucking details." She nodded toward Rusty. "I guess that's why you have him. Rusty is very good with details...and not only on the job. Isn't that right, Rusty?" She asked, licking her lipstick covered lips.

"We keep it professional during jobs," Danny said sternly, ignoring the look from Rusty. "I don't want anything interfering with what we do."

"If the job is worth it...."

"Oh it's worth it all right, we're looking at about $150k per person. One day, we go in, we get out, and we go our merry ways."

"Bullshit, if you're here, there has to be a safe, a hard safe to crack, that alone makes it interesting. Plus the $150K...." She hummed as she thought it over. "In state?"

"Nah, we're going to Kentucky," Rusty said.

"Kentucky, no shit. Where the horse race..." She looked at the two men, watched as their polite smiles turned into grins. "No fucking way, you're thinking...."

Danny nodded. "We're thinking, and planning. So are you in?"

"Ummm, let me drive Ma to church. Pa always said that if you gotta do a job, you should make peace with God first. This way if the cops wanna fuck you over, you can be in His good graces when you start prayin'. I'll be ready to leave in two hours. Is that good?"

"That sounds perfect." Danny got up, and buttoned his jacket. He nodded at Connie.

Rusty walked to her, put a hand on her waist as he leaned to kiss her. "We'll see you later," he told her before following Danny outside the house. "So what do we do for two hours?"

Danny took a deep breath, his forehead wrinkling as he pretended to think it over. "I thought maybe we'd go back to the hotel, and fuck, but if you have anything else in mind...."

"I thought we were keeping things professional."

Danny stood still, a hand on the roof of the car, and stared at Rusty. "I'm much, much better than a professional."

Laughing, Rusty opened the car door, and got inside. "Professionals don't waste time. Get inside, and start driving."

"This is why I keep you around," Danny said as he started the car. "You can focus on the details *so* well."

"I'll be focusing on something else if you can get us to the hotel." Rusty's fingers slid over Danny's thigh, tracing the hard muscles underneath, moving higher and higher, until it rested on Danny's crotch. "Or I could start here."

Danny took his hand and pushed it aside. "We want to get to the hotel in one piece, yes?" Without waiting for Rusty's answer, he started to drive.

~*~*~*~

Fifth Street, Texas  
April 8, 1993

They drove straight from the airport in a rented car, a black Audi cabriolet that had probably never left the city of Houston. Danny looked outside the window while Rusty drove, but it was desert, desert, and more desert, and he was ready to scream.

Rusty lit a cigarette before turning to look at Danny, and then chuckled. "We're almost there."

"I didn't say anything," Danny answered, before stealing Rusty's cigarette.

"I know; you were about to," Rusty said with finality, and then fished for another cigarette. "Jeff is good, best driver around."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"So why is he stuck in the middle of fucking nowhere?" Danny raked his hair with his fingers. He was usually a patient man. Give him a busy city, excitement, the possibility to be caught, and then he felt at home, but this nothingness unnerved him.

"Got his girlfriend pregnant, and the parents threatened to kill him if they didn't come home to get married."

Danny chuckled. "So, are we showing up to save him?"

"Hell, no, I'm not about to get shot because of him. They got married three days ago, and they're on their honeymoon...with the family. I think he would have married me when I called him about the job." Rusty shook his head. "Marriage...why would anyone do it?"

Danny shrugged. "People are insane. Then again...look at that." He pointed to the sign:

Welcome to Fifth Street  
Population: 2,059

"Are you sure this guy's good? I mean how good can he be? He drives where there are no cars."

"He used to test-drive Nascar cars before they caught him stealing," Rusty said with a grin. "He's good; trust me."

Danny reached for his lover, his hand resting on Rusty's neck, his thumb drawing circles on Rusty's scalp. "I trust you." That's what it came down to. He could always trust Rusty to make sure they got the best people for the job.

"Good, because there he is." Rusty nodded toward a house, or more accurately a few pieces of wood that were supposed to be a house. The yard looked like it hadn't been mowed in years. A man sat in the uneven steps with a bag next to him, while two women, a younger one and an older one, stood by the door.

"You're here." Jeff threw the bag in the back seat, before jumping over the uncovered car to take his place.

Rusty and Danny looked back at the same time. After a second, they looked at each other, and Rusty cocked his head, "Ready?"

Danny looked around, and then back at Rusty. "Let's get out of here."

~*~*~*

Louisville, Kentucky  
May 1, 1993  
Early morning

Danny woke up first, as he always did on the day of a job. It wasn't nerves, but anticipation that wouldn't allow him to sleep. He didn't need to look at the alarm clock to know that it was early. There was no light passing through the window covers, not even the flimsiest ray that could give him a reason to wake Rusty up.

He lay there, watching Rusty in the dark. Even in the dark, he could see the lines of his lover's body. Rusty was sprawled on his back, one leg bent at the knee. One hand rested on the pillow, while the other sat on Rusty's stomach, right above the semi-hard cock.

He smiled to himself. Rusty looked like a fucking tease even asleep, and Danny couldn't resist. He moved without making sudden moves, preventing the mattress from jolting, until he was lying on his stomach, propped on his elbows, between Rusty's legs.

Usually he liked to tease, but he doubted that Rusty would take that approach kindly, not at the crack of dawn. Instead Danny took Rusty's cock in his mouth, sliding his lips up and down until the first moans told him that Rusty was waking up. Then Rusty shifted, spreading his legs more, and Danny could feel his lover's eyes on him. Kissing Rusty on the hipbone, Danny looked at his sleepy lover. "Morning."

Rusty carded Danny's hair and pushed him toward his cock. "Umm...don't let me stop you from doing what you were doing."

"You're not stopping me." He grazed Rusty's stomach with his teeth, tugging slightly, knowing that each moment he wasted would only infuriate Rusty more. He took great care with kissing, and licking, and biting, until he could feel the anticipation and need in his lover. Only then he took pity on Rusty, and returned to his original goal, sucking until hot come spilled into his mouth, swallowing until he heard Rusty moan in protest.

Crawling over Rusty's body, Danny latched on Rusty's neck, sucking gently. "Good morning."

Rusty smiled. "It's not morning. It's too early to be morning."

"You weren't complaining before."

Rusty strained up, and caught Danny's lip with his teeth, sucking on it for a moment, before falling back against the pillow. "'M sleepy, not stupid."

"Are you gonna complain if I fuck you?" Danny asked with a smirk.

"Only if you expect me to do any work." Rusty rolled onto his stomach, before reaching for a condom on the nightstand.

Danny put it on without a word. Too many friends dying in the late 80s and still dying had formed new habits, and it was easier to use a condom than ask for fidelity. He lay over his lover, his cock pressing against Rusty's hole, orgasm and sleep making his lover's body pliant and ready.

He inched forward, his eyes on Rusty, who was uncommonly silent, with eyes closed, but the smile on his face told Danny all that he needed.

Danny covered Rusty's hands with his, and with each thrust, their fingers moved slightly, until they were interlaced, joined into a tight grip, and Rusty was pushing back, meeting each thrust, rubbing away Danny's control, until Danny was holding on by a thread, trying to prolong the moment just one more instant, until he couldn't hold anymore. Danny's teeth sank into Rusty's shoulder, and he came, leaving him breathless.

"I thought you weren't doing any work," he said when his voice was steady again.

"Changed my mind." Rusty turned his head, and planted his lips on the corner of Danny's mouth. "Now, get off, and let's get some sleep."

Danny couldn't find the energy to argue that he was wide-awake. He couldn't summon the strength to point out that he liked his space when Rusty pulled him against his own body. He certainly couldn't complain when he fell asleep spooned against Rusty.

~*~*~*

May 1, 1993  
Late Morning

The four men and Carmela stood in Danny's hotel room. Roger was dressed in a white Gucci suit. The rest wore black suits with white shirts, the uniform of choice for the waiters in the private section of the Clubhouse and for chauffeurs everywhere.

"Do we remember what to do?" Danny asked, ignoring Rusty's eyeroll.

"Yeah, don't worry so much," answered Connie with the ever popping gum, and Danny couldn't wait for the day to be over, so he wouldn't have to look at the dental work anymore.

"Well, let's go over it once more," Danny said with a smile.

Rusty stepped closer to him. "Look, it's simple. Jeff stays in the car like the good chauffeur he is." He didn't mention that the engine of the Lincoln had undergone a few changes so that it could drive almost as fast as a Corvette. "Roger'll keep the VIPs occupied with stories of his movies. We do the rounds with the food."

"Bets close twenty minutes before the main race starts," Danny continued. "It takes them about ten minutes to bring all the money to the safe. The safe is in the chairman's office, which is right behind the VIP area. After that the race starts, which is about three minutes, then we have the speech, the awards, for a grand total of about twenty to thirty minutes. We have no way to narrow it down, and while it's usually thirty, we're aiming for twenty."

"Rusty and I bring the cart with the food to the Chairman's office for the after the race private party. The safe is there. I'll need eight minutes to crack that safe. No more," said Connie with finality. "Then dump the food, put the money there, wheel the cart out the clubhouse and to the car."

Rusty patted Danny's back. "See, everything's going to be fine."

~*~*~*~

Churchill Downs racetrack, Kentucky  
May 1, 1993  
Early Afternoon

If there was one thing you could always count on, it was that people ignored the hired help. Predictably, no one questioned the arrival of three new waiters, who were ready to help and didn't complain.

Trays in hand, Rusty, Danny, and Connie walked through the crowd of rich people gathered in the exclusive hall. Danny's eyes shifted over the room, stopping on Roger and the clock at equal intervals. From time to time, he watched Rusty. Predictably his lover seemed to be having the time of his life, smiling brightly and charming the guests while serving hors d'oevres and champagne.

The only one enjoying the job more than Rusty was Roger. He had everyone convinced that he was indeed an international movie star, recounting tales of films productions and post-award parties.

When the voice over the speakers informed all the people present that all betting was now over, while they got ready for the main race, the air seemed to change around Danny. Anticipation gave way to alertness; nerves disappeared in the face of clear tasks.

Danny moved to the back of the room, looking outside the window. He watched as four armed guards used the side door and entered the Chairman's office. He looked at his watch while he waited for the guards to leave again, without the money this time. Three minutes and forty seconds later, they were out. It was another twenty seconds before the chairman came out of his office.

Like clockwork, Connie and another waiter arrived, pushing a large cart. A red tablecloth rested on the top tier, and spilled onto the side, reaching just above the wheels.

Roger walked backwards, talking to an old English woman, waving his hands as he told her another story. His entire attention was on the woman, when he bumped into a waiter "I beg your pardon." He turned around just as the tray with all the glasses landed on the floor in a mix of shattered crystal and champagne. "Oh my, I'm so sorry."

"God, that poor kid," Connie whispered. "Jimmy, maybe you should go and help. I can manage to get this set up."

"Are ya sure?" asked Jimmy.

"Yeah, sure. Go, don't worry about me." Connie nodded toward the poor waiter who was trying to clean up the mess that Roger had made. "He really needs help."

"All right, if you're sure."

"I'm sure." Connie began to push the cart to prove her point, and Jimmy finally left to clean up.

Nonchalantly, Rusty took the free side and pulled the cart into the Chairman's office. He looked around the room one last time, and their eyes met for a moment. Danny nodded, before the door closed.

This was the worse part for Danny. Waiting. Standing around with nothing to do while others worked. The problem was that he couldn't let his guard down, because things could go wrong when you least expected.

"And the race starts." The speakers recounted the race. Two minutes and two seconds later, it proclaimed Sea Hero the winner of the 1993 Kentucky Derby.

Danny didn't pay attention to the race or the winner. Instead, he moved through the rooms, keeping all the entrances under surveillance. He knew that Roger was doing the same, while continuing his act. The clock kept tracking the passage of time as two minutes became four, then six, and finally eight.

Danny started to look more often. Connie had guaranteed that she could open the safe in eight minutes. Their plan rested on Connie's ability to open the safe while the attention was still on the winner, and the award ceremony.

Nine minutes.

Ten minutes.

The door to the office opened, Rusty and Connie came out with the cart. A nod from Rusty told him that the money was safely carried on the lower tier, covered by the red tablecloth.

Danny took a deep breath, and finally smiled. They had done it. Another job perfectly executed. He was ready to follow Rusty and Connie, when he saw Roger nod his way. He turned to see the Chairman make his way to the office. Soon. Too soon. Rusty and Connie needed longer to get to car.

He waited a few moments, lingering close to the door that led to the main portion of the track. He saw the guards use the back entrance to the Chairman's office. When they came out, Roger moved in front of them, apologizing effusively as they tried to walk past him.

Danny picked up the corners of a tablecloth, joined them, and carried it out with everything still nestled in the tablecloth. He bumped into a few people, attracting people's attention as he made his hasty departure. He crossed the grounds in a brisk walk, stopping short from running. When he reached the main building, two cops opened the door, guns at hand. He turned around, and saw the same guards, with their own gun drawn. He put the tablecloth down, and raised his hands in the air. "I didn't know a dirty tablecloth was a crime," he said with a smile.

~*~*~*~

Police Station  
May 1, 1993  
Afternoon

Danny ran his hand through his hair, and sighed. "How many times do I have to tell you? I don't know anything about missing money."

"So, you were running away for no reason," the detective asked in a Southern drawl.

"No," Danny said with emphasis, "I've told you my reason. I'm a driver, I'm not supposed to leave my car, but I sneaked in to watch the race. My boss was there, I grabbed the tablecloth, and ran out of the room so that I wouldn't be recognized. I need this job. If I lose it, I have to pay for my way back. I'd like to keep it...not that it's an issue if you don't let me go."

The detective snorted. "Yes, of course, we wouldn't want to interfere with your plans."

Danny ignored the sarcasm and started to rise, when a hand on his shoulder pushed him down. "Sit down, Ocean, and let's start again. You have priors."

"I've never been charged with anything," Danny answered immediately.

"Of course, and I bet you gave them some sad story about your job each time they caught you." The detective bent down, bringing their faces only inches apart. "I'm not that dumb, Ocean. You're not getting out of this."

A noise on the desk made them both jump and turn toward the source of the noise. An old woman, dressed in a flowery dress and a big hat, stood there, a cane in her hand, a cane that only moments ago had been slapped against the desk.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" the detective asked.

"I'm Lady Margaret Walmsley of Riston, and you, young man, have kidnapped my driver, forcing me to drive myself. What do you have to say for yourself, lad?"

Danny lowered his chin to hide the smile as Lady Margaret hit the detective's shin with her cane.

"I...ma'am...we have to verify of course," the detective mumbled, rubbing his shin.

"What is there to verify? My identity...." She went into her small bag, and took out her passport. "Signed and verified by the British ministry, complete with my title. Now if we're done...come along, Daniel."

Danny stood up. "Detective?" he asked, not bothering to hide his smugness. "Unless you'll like to ask more questions?"

The detective stepped closer. "If I see you around here again...."

"Don't worry. I don't plan to come back, Detective." Danny gave him a mock salute, before following the woman outside the police station. A limo was outside. Danny noticed a man in driver's uniform sitting in the back when he opened the door, but he didn't comment. Instead, he went around and got into the driver seat.

He grinned when he saw Rusty sitting in the passenger seat. "How did you get all of this done so quickly?"

Rusty frowned. "I don't know what I've done, but allow me to introduce to you Lady Margaret."

The woman tapped Danny's shoulder with her cane. "Did you think I was lying, lad? Now, start driving before that awful detective changes his mind."

Still confused, Danny turned on the engine, and began driving. "Rusty?"

"Next light, turn right. Our car is there, and Stephen can take his rightful place in the driver seat." Rusty turned around. "We really appreciated this, Margaret."

"Anything for true love, my Dear," she answered, and Danny could see her in the mirror, looking at them with a sparkle in her eyes.

Danny stopped the limo next to their car, trying to hide his growing confusion. "Well... thank you, Lady Margaret."

"You're quite welcome, Dear. I hope you're happy together." She tapped her chauffeur's leg with her cane. "Take us out of this town, Stephen."

"Yes, Madam," Stephen replied smoothly.

Danny got out of the car as Rusty said his goodbye, and sat in the passenger seat of their car. "What the hell was that about?" were the first words out of his mouth when Rusty get into the car.

"Yes, you're welcome for getting you out of this jam." But after a moment, he began to explain, "She was at the derby. She liked me."

"Everyone likes you," Danny said.

"Why shouldn't they? Anyway, we were talking, and when you got caught, I went to her. I told her that the cops had arrested you because it was personal. The detective had arrested us before because folks around here got upset when they saw us kissing in a bar. He couldn't hold us, and he got pissed. Of course, we would NEVER rob anyone."

"She believed you."

Rusty shrugged. "She did, she said that she saw how we kept looking at each other while we were working, like two lovebirds who can't keep their eyes off of each other."

Danny chuckled. "Yes, true love. I'll have to remember for the future."

Rusty elbowed his lover. "Hey, it worked."

"It did." Danny reached over, cupping the nape of Rusty's neck. "So where are the others?"

"Roger's flying first class to Connecticut. Connie took Amtrak to Jersey, saying that the train leaves no trails. Jeff's driving back to Texas as we speak." Rusty leaned closer, and kissed Danny, before nodding to the back. "Our share is there."

"Have I ever told you just how good you are?"

"Yeah, but usually we're naked."

"So what now?"

"New York, L.A., anywhere, but first stop..."

"Cigarettes," they said together.


End file.
